Shaking Routine
by Courtanie
Summary: Kyle's more than bored with his repetitive birthday routine. Kenny's stopping by to help him get into a different rhythm. M for a reason.


_**A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO KYLE ;w; (5/26)**_

_**I was nice to him this year. Last year he was near-raped in Unmasked, lolz**_

_**Enjoy :3**_

* * *

><p>Some years I wonder why I even bother.<p>

It's always the same goddamn routine: Wake up, listen to my mom tell me how old I'm getting, eat the pancakes she always makes for me, go out to Stan's, get my presents from him, Kenny, and Cartman, (well sometimes Cartman), then go home and chill.

I'm. Fucking. Bored.

I trudge back towards my house, my presents held tightly in my arms as I stare at the sidewalk beneath me. My eyes flicker to the gifts and I feel the corner of my mouth tugging up slightly. Regardless of my boredom, it's always nice to see that the guys remember my existence, if only for today.

Stan bought me some book of guitar songs that I've been pining for for a few months. Kenny couldn't really afford to get me much, so he just got me a cheap drawing pad and some pencils. I can draw worth shit, but I appreciate the gesture nonetheless. Cartman got me a sweatshirt. With a swastika. Needless to say, that sweatshirt ended up with a sleeve wrapped around his throat and the other shoved into his mouth before Kenny and Stan managed to pry me away.

It's not much from them, but after seventeen years of celebrating birthdays with them, it's so routine and comfortable that one part of me doesn't want to change it. I never really ask for anything, just like they never do when their days roll around. It's just an unspoken rule between all of us, don't ask what they want, just buy something that makes you think of them. No matter how crappy the gift, you love it because well...it's rare anymore to see guys our age exchanging gifts like we do. It means a lot to all of us, even if Cartman makes it his purpose to piss me off every year with something Naziesque or something else slandering.

But despite all that mushy crap, I still can't help but feel a bit aggravated with the consistent routine that we fall into. It's only natural, right? I mean, I'd kill for the chance to just go out and actually do something with them, for the opportunity to, I don't know, just hang with them longer, catch a movie, do stupid stuff we used to do when we were kids. Not just exchange presents and rant to each other before going our separate ways.

I'm not too fond of acting like we're old men who can't do anything outside of giving each other things. Especially since we're always constantly hanging with each other otherwise throughout the weeks and months gone by.

I don't know anymore. Maybe I'm just greedy.

I sigh, walking up to my house and pushing open my front door. "Hello, Kyle," My mother greets me.

"Hey," I nod back, looking to find her, Dad, and Ike on the couch.

"Get anything good?" Dad asks, looking up from his newspaper.

I shrug, "Yeah. Guitar book and a sketch book."

Ike scoffs, "You can't draw."

"And you can't do anything online but look up porn but you still got a computer, didn't you?" I retort, pulling my hat off my head and throwing it onto the hook by the door. I catch my parents glaring at him and smirk to myself.

"Would you like some dinner, Kyle?" Mom asks.

"Nah, not now," I answer. "I'm going to go chill in my room."

"What an exciting birthday," Ike rolls his eyes. "You party animal, you."

"Well I have copious amounts of liquor stashed up there so maybe I'll just get crunk and have some fun like that," I stick my tongue out at him.

"What what what?" Mom screeches and I cringe.

"Kidding, Ma, just kidding," I wave dismissively. "If I had alcohol, I wouldn't tell you about it."

"Good," she nods. "...Wait."

"Bye," I smile and hurry up the steps. I hear her rambling to my dad and laugh softly, heading into my room and closing the door behind me. I heave my shoulders in a sigh, looking around at the space and smacking my lips. I walk over to my bed, throwing down the books and sitting on the edge of the sheets. I look around aimlessly before sighing and leaning back against my wall.

Same old room, same old things to do.

I grab my guitar from beside me from its stand, picking up my pick from off my nightstand and gently running the tip over my strings. I sigh again and shift comfortably in my place, grabbing my new book from my bed and setting it on my lap, flipping to a random page. I slowly move my foot to the tempo, bopping my head along with it. I hum out the first few notes before strumming over the strings in time. I miss a note and curse under my breath, restarting from that point and going at it again.

This is too routine. New song or not, this is every year for me. Just lie here for hours, play mindlessly until I get called down for dinner, then just eat, shower, and go to bed.

Boring, boring, boring.

I start softly banging my head back against the wall in time with my playing, hearing the faint sound of my family bantering from downstairs. I don't know what about and frankly, I just don't care. It's another typical conversation on what may as well just be a typical day.

I look down at the music again, hitting the chorus of the song and getting more into the beat, my torso dancing slightly to the rhythm as I strum away. I clutch the neck of my guitar tightly for a moment in my hand, feeling a surge of music passing through me and sighing contentedly. Mundane or no, the feeling of playing this thing is more than worth it.

I hum softly, glancing down at the instrument in my hands and smiling a bit. The gleam off of the body is almost blinding to an extent, matching the pure euphoria that I feel when I get it to play along with the beats in my head. I sit up a little straighter, practically bouncing along to the beat, my eyes closing as I leave the set bar on the music sheet, letting my fingers do their own dance as I switch up the notes and the tempo, strumming out a small tune I taught myself years ago on this very day.

A song of yearning, of longing for something different in life. But not one of those pussy-ass emo songs of wanting to die and be reborn. Just a happy song that came out of my routine: Content and yet not.

It's hard to explain, but it makes sense to me. That's all that matters.

I continue swaying to the beat of my song, getting a bit carried away and letting the neck of the guitar dance along with me. I hear a separate tapping and dismiss it, taking it to be nothing more than my brother in his being an idiot. It comes up again after a few seconds and I growl softly, trying to stay focused on my music. It becomes louder and I shoot my eyes open, not able t help but feel a strong surge of annoyance as I pause my strumming.

"Shut up!" I look at my wall towards his room and yell.

"Not nice!" I hear from behind me. I whirl around and nearly topple over as I see Kenny looking through the glass at me. I instinctively clutch my guitar tighter, almost raising it threateningly before I relax as my brain recognizes the blonde staring back at me.

I put down my instrument and lean over my nightstand, sliding my window open. "Dude," I say, looking at him with a raised brow. "I have a front door."

"Yeah but I didn't want to deal with your mom," he says. I roll my eyes. No subtly for Kenny McCormick. I move and he hops onto the sill before jumping onto my bed. I pull my guitar out of the way of his landing just in time, glaring at him slightly.

"Break my guitar," I state evenly, "I'll break your neck."

He smirks and brushes his bangs out of his face. "You wouldn't do that. You love my company too much."

"I could do without if need be," I sigh tiredly, setting my guitar gently back on the stand. I look at him and cock my head slightly. "So why are you here? We were just at Stan's house like, ten minutes ago."

"Yeah but...I was bored," he shrugs. "Thought I'd come and bother the birthday boy," he smiles, poking my forehead. I frown and swat his hand away.

"So I'm just a means of entertainment for you?" I raise my brow.

"Yep," he grins. "I can think of a number of ways you can entertain me, if you catch my drift," he leans back against the opposite side of the bed and winks.

I shake my head at him. Leave it to Kenny, I swear.

"It's my birthday. Shouldn't_ you_ be the one going out of your way to entertain _me_?" I ask.

"Well if you insist," he reaches over and grabs the hem of my shirt. He starts pulling it up my stomach before I reach over and smack him across the face. He falls back with a small 'oof' and pouts, rubbing his cheek. "Kylleeeeee," he whines. "That hurrrttttt."

"Well, that's what you get!" I spit. "Freakin' tryin' to molest me in my own bed," I mutter in aggravation.

"Is it molesting if you want it though?"

"Who the fuck said I wanted it?"

"Your eyes," he grins, fluttering his lashes teasingly.

"Yeah. Sure," I raise my brow before breaking into a small laugh over the sad pout that falls over his face again. I shake my head and sigh, leaning back and staring at him. "So...why are you here again?"

"Trying to molest you but you won't let me," he frowns.

"Buy me dinner first and we'll talk about it," I roll my eyes.

"Hm," he looks up in thought. He gets a grin over his face, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a few wrapped pieces of candy. "Dinner," he smiles.

I look at the candy before looking back at him with a quirked brow. "Kenny?"

"Yessssss?"

"...I don't eat candy. Too much sugar," I shake my head at him. "Nice try."

He pouts, "What if I told you it's sugar-free?"

"You'd be a lying sack of shit."

"Yeah, but I'd be a lying sack of shit that got you _into_ the sack, correct?"

"I never agreed to that, Ken!"

"But you never disagreed either...correct?" he smiles.

I just narrow my eyes at him, shaking my head slowly. "You have serious issues, McCormick."

"And they start in my jeans," he nods.

"Are you just going to sit here and try to hit on me unsuccessfully or do you have a real purpose for being here?" I question dryly.

"Little bit of A, little bit of B?" he shrugs, turning and lying down atop my sheets, his head practically on my lap. We stare at each other in silence for a bit before I flick the top of his head a bit.

"And that little bit of B would be...?" I urge.

"Um. Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Kyle, now let me into your pants?" he grins.

I growl, shoving him off of me and watching him fall onto the floor with a satisfied smirk. "How's that for your answer?"

"I say that I still have the option," he leans back up and rests his head atop his forearms on my bed. "You didn't kill me, soooo I have a chance."

"I'll call my mother up here," I warn. "Just think of what she would do if she saw you molesting me like that. I may not kill you but she'd clean your clock."

"I'd like to clean your clock," he purrs.

"Was that supposed to be a pick up line or what?" I blink.

"Not sure. Did it work?"

"No."

"Then no." He hops back up onto the bed beside me and pointedly places his hip against mine. I shake my head and he smiles widely, bouncing on the mattress slightly. "So."

"So?"

"What were you playing before I came in?"

"A song," I reply.

"What kind of song?"

"The musical kind."

"Now you're the one being the asshole," he pouts. I chuckle and he smiles softly again, looking back from my guitar to me. "Seriously though. What were you playing? Something from the book Stanny boy gotcha?"

"Nah," I shake my head. "Just randomly playing," I shrug. "I tend to do that."

"Play it again," he suddenly jumps. I blink before smirking and shaking my head.

"No way. I never play with any of you guys near me."

"How come?" he asks. "You play in your room. You're basically playing for your family to hear, right? Sooo why not play for your friends?"

"Because you jackasses do nothing but taunt me," I roll my eyes.

"I don't taunt, I tease. There's a difference."

"Like what?"

"Taunting leads to you kicking my ass," he states. "Me teasing you leads to me fucking you in the ass."

I grab my guitar book and slam it onto his head. He laughs and I feel my face glowing as he rubs his hand up through his hair. "Kenny, I swear to God..." I start.

"Oh Kyle, chill," he chuckles. "You know I'm only half serious. Or completely. Depends on my mood," he grins sheepishly. He reaches back behind us and grabs my guitar, pushing it against me. "Plaaayyyyyy."

"Don't wanna."

"Do it or I'm molesting you more."

"And if I do do it?" I question.

"...I molest you more but to a tempo."

I hold my guitar between us defensively. "Touch me and this is slamming into your head."

"But you might dent it," he points out.

"Only because your skull is so damn thick that you can't take no for an answer," I glare.

"And?" he questions. "Shut up and play." He grabs the instrument again and pushes it back against me. "One song."

"Half a song."

"If I can keep my pants on that long, sure," he shrugs.

I stare at him, unamused before sighing in defeat and leaning back against my wall again. I grab my pick up from off my sheets and softly pick back up where I left off when he decided to come breaking into my room. I stumble over a few notes and blush, looking up at him and seeing his eyes focused on my hands. I clear my throat softly and try again, stumbling over the same strand of notes and growling in frustration.

He glances up at me and tilts his head. "What's wrong?"

"I. Hate. Playing. In front of people," I breathe, looking away from him and feeling my face beaming brightly. I hate the way I react sometimes.

"Why? It was good," he replies.

"I got through three notes, Kenny," I spit.

"Three more than I could," he shrugs. "Come onnnn," he grabs my arm gently and shakes it a little. "Keep goin'. Not like I'm going to run off and tell everyone that you messed up or somethin'," he smirks.

I shift uncomfortably as he stares at me before looking back down onto my guitar. I gulp and start strumming again, not following any particular beat, just playing simple notes in a moderate rhythm. His eyes drift back to my hands as mine look back at his face. I raise my brow at him, watching as he becomes entranced with my hand sliding along the neck of the instrument. I can't help but smirk at him, his head following along as it continues moving. I feel a surge of adrenaline and pick up the pace, quickly moving and strumming out random notes just to watch his head moving back and forth.

His lips curl into a smile and I raise my brow at him again. The hell is he even doing?

"Ken?" I ask. No response. "Kenny?" I try again. He keeps watching my hand and I roll my eyes, stopping my playing and kicking his leg. "Ken!" I shout.

He blinks and looks up at me. "What?"

"What the hell are you so happy about?"

He grins widely, "That sliding thing you're doing with your hand will have its benefits in the future."

I blink before growling at him and kicking out at him again. He grabs my thigh and pulls me over closer to him, smiling down at me perversely. I back up, blinking slowly as he stares me down, starting to lean over me.

"Mind showing me that little hand trick again?" he purrs. I bring the guitar up and put it between us, ready to slam it in his face if need-be. His hand slides down my thigh, cupping under me and sliding me closer practically into his lap. He puts his other hand atop the body of the guitar and pushes it down, bending over it in front of my face. He breathes against me a few times, watching me as I squirm uncomfortably.

"Kenny, get off," I mumble, my eyes fleeting around before locking back into his.

"You don't seem too angry," he points out. "I don't think this is as big of a problem as you were making it out to be."

"S-shut up," I stammer, kicking listlessly at him. "Come on, let me up."

"No," he says bluntly, leaning down closer over the instrument and trapping me in between it and his arm. He leans down beside my ear and I can make out the sound of him laughing softly before I feel him kiss just under my ear. I shudder, pushing up against the guitar, still trying to get him to let me up. "Stop lying," he breathes into my ear, his teeth biting down on my neck. I yelp in surprise, my head trying to move to close off the area he's currently attacking.

"Ken," I breathe shakily, pushing up my shoulder into his face. "S-stop."

"Why?" he asks, his fingers brushing over my collar before pulling down my shirt slightly and kissing at my collarbone.

"Dude, come on," I whine, grown increasingly uncomfortable between his weight, my guitar pressing into me, and the undeniable tightening of my jeans. I curse under my breath, slightly thrashing under him. "I...I can't breathe," I state.

He smirks, pulling back slightly and staring down at me, tonguing over his lips. "I think I know why you can't," he growls, raising his brows teasingly.

"Because there's a 130 pound retard crushing me under a guitar!" I hiss. He chuckles, leaning up a bit and grabbing the neck of the instrument, ripping it out of my hands. I reach for it frantically before he puts it down on the stand gently and looks back at me. He grabs my arms and pins them down over my head and we stare at each other wordlessly.

"So, Kyle," he smiles. "That a pick in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"

I frown, "What's that supposed to mean?"

He laughs, "Take it as you wish," he says before pulling me up slightly by my wrists and crashing his lips down into mine. I instinctually mutter in panic, shifting around atop the sheets and trying to pull my head away from his. He sinks his teeth into my bottom lip and I pull my head back into the bed, taking it back and watching him nervously.

He pouts and lets out a huff. "Kyle, stop being a prude."

"Stop molesting me!" I yell back.

He rolls his eyes. "I haven't even _began_ molesting you yet," he states. "So just chill out."

"How the flying fuck do you expect me to chill out while you're doing this?" I screech through gritted teeth.

His lips curl up a bit and he chuckles slightly. "By letting things happen," he states before pushing his hips down onto mine. I gasp and my own arch back up against his in shock. He lets go of one of my wrists in my frozen state and works his fingers down before pushing his hand back up under my shirt. He pushes his teeth down into my neck again and I hiss, bringing my freed hand up onto his shoulder. I push him back a bit, quickly cut down as he grinds against me once more, sending my head into a dizzy spell of overriding emotions.

"K-Ken," I wince, my fingers curling into his sweatshirt as he keeps pushing down on me, his calloused hands tracing up and down my chest and stomach with taunting precision. He pinches my right nipple between his nails and I arch up with a loud cry. Kenny quickly lunges up and pushes me back down with his mouth overtop mine, delving his tongue in past my parted teeth. I practically start choking on the combination of my continued shock and his invading muscle, blinking at him and mumbling all I can.

He pulls back, panting slightly, "Dude," he breathes. "Your parents are downstairs. I'm all for you moaning and shit but no screaming in terror."

I look back at him blankly before scowling darkly. "You're the one all over me and you're telling me not to freak out?" I shout. He firmly kisses me again, pulling back and watching me carefully before smirking.

"You can scream my name all you want," he winks. "But other than that, unless you want your mom comin' up here and finding you pantsless, I think you better tone it down."

"I-I...I..." I stutter, not even able to comprehend a decent retort for him before he slowly plants his lips overtop mine again. He moves his hand overtop my chest slowly and I can feel my heart thudding loudly underneath his touch. His hips bend down on top of mine again, staying planted against me as he grinds our zippers together. I shake underneath him, my hand atop his shoulder pulling him down despite the voices in my head screaming for me to stop him. I reluctantly part my teeth again, allowing his tongue to snake down and move slowly against my own. I feel him laugh into my mouth softly and take a deep, shuddery breath and letting my eyes slip closed.

He continues pushing his groin into mine, his hand sliding out of my shirt momentarily and cupping my ass. I flinch a bit as he pulls me up, pushing down into me harder. I let out a long moan, trying to stifle myself but failing as he squeezes my skin through my coarse jeans.

"You like thiiis," he pulls up and breathes in a song.

"N-Nuh uh," I shake my head defiantly, not able to look him in the face.

"Hm," he smirks. "Guess I'll have to find something else you'd like," he states. Once again, the bastard renders me speechless. I watch him as he takes his hand not currently propping me up and pokes my forehead. He slides his finger down over my nose and atop my lips, dragging my bottom one down slightly as he moves and watching me as his tongue passes over his teeth. He continues moving it down over my face, trailing down my neck and chest and slowing down as he makes his way down my stomach. He plays with the hem of my shirt slightly before leaning up a bit, brushing his finger over the zipper of my jeans. My body practically goes into hysterics at his touch, my legs jerking nervously as he laughs. He pushes the hem of my shirt up, watching with a hungry glaze as he reveals more and more of my stomach.

"Sit up," he whispers huskily. My mind and my hormones have a slight battle before I realize it's pointless.

I'm nineteen. Hormones always win.

I lift my torso up and he greedily slides my shirt up and around me as I raise my arms to help him. He rips off the fabric and throws it carelessly to the side, keeping his eyes in mine. He grins before backing up slightly, leaning down and kissing just above my pant line. My breath hitches as I tilt my head down to watch him curiously. He looks back at me, making a show out of biting around my skin, nipping at my waist as he pecks his way up my abdomen up my chest. I gulp as he drags his tongue over my left nipple, looking at me before sinking his teeth down onto it. I'm tempted to scream, quickly bringing my hand up and placing it over my mouth, my eyes flickering to my door nervously. He just laughs again, continuing to suck and bite at my sensitive skin. He grates the flesh delicately between his teeth and I start breathing heavier, my chest warring out with itself between pain and pure pleasure.

He slides his tongue over my nipple once more before switching to the other, biting on it fiercely. I scream out from under my hand and he releases my ass, dropping me fully onto the bed again. Both his hands cup my waist, rubbing up and down my sides over my stomach and hips. I gulp, watching him as one of his hands slides off of my hip, slowly trailing down over my jeans. I shut my eyes and my body arches on its own accord as he squeezes my crotch unabashedly. He roughly palms over me and I feel myself twitching like crazy with every nerve coursing in excitement.

He kisses my chest before leaning over me, taking his hands off of me and propping himself up over top of my shaking form. "I think I found something you like," he purrs, kissing my forehead.

My shyness is quickly overridden with a longing to be touched again and I lunge up, wrapping my arms around his neck and smashing our mouths together again. He makes a small noise of surprise before moaning and grabbing down around my waist, pulling me up from between his legs and helping me onto my knees in front of him, our lips never losing contact in the process.

If I ever had to give Kenny McCormick credit for anything, it would be his skills of persuasion. This never _crossed_ my mind before today, regardless of all the stupid perverted jokes he makes, his constant flirtation with me, and just his general being. But now that I've had a taste, I can barely contain myself. I don't want to be just a stupid slut like most of the chicks he bangs, but dammit, I want this feeling to linger as long as I can hold onto it. It's fucking nothing short of irresistible at this point.

My fingers soon find themselves clutching onto his shoulders, twisting the fabric of his shirt almost desperately between them. I want him closer. I want more of this.

I want this goddamn shirt of his off.

He pulls back slightly for a heavy breath, grabbing one of my hands and planting it against his jeans. We open our eyes and stare at each other and suddenly my nerves kick back into gear. I can feel my blush jumping all throughout my cheeks, up through my ears and down my neck and he grins at me crookedly. He puts his lips closer to mine, just barely touching as he whispers, "Nervous?"

I choke on my answer, squirming slightly, feeling his bulge growing underneath my stilled palm and gulping.

"Like this," he laughs, grasping my own rise back and making me gasp before he attacks my lips and pushes our tongues together again. I moan as he shifts his hand around, grasping and teasing me in all the right places. I tentatively start mimicking his actions, squeezing his jeans a bit and listening to him moan. From what he sounds like, I'm not doing that bad of a job. I gain a bit of bravery, exploring all my nervousness allows me to. I reach under him slightly, cupping his clothed balls in my palm. He moans louder and grasps me tighter before pulling my hand off of him and grabbing my hips again. He presses our jeans against each other, slowly grinding us together as we kiss.

"Fuck, Kyle," he backs off slightly to breathe. I open my eyes, finding him staring at me ravishingly. A part of me is frozen, completely tantalized with that famished stare. Unfortunately, it's the part of me that moves. My mind, on the other hand, won't stop going. He cups my chin, leaning down beside my ear and kissing it softly. "Blow me," he says roughly.

How fucking romantic.

I back up and stare at him for a bit, pouting, "I don't know how."

"Liar, you've watched porn," he smirks.

"So? Doesn't mean I practice," I complain. Though my curious side can't help but be intrigued with the idea. Not to mention the grating voice he's talking in is all but making me dive right into it.

He smiles at me in that crooked way again and it makes me shiver. "Please?" he breathes. "I promise, I'll make it worth your while. The rest is all about you," he kisses my ear and then my neck, sucking on my skin a bit. I can't say that that promise doesn't do something for me.

I raise my hands to the buttons of his jeans, feeling them trembling and taking a deep breath. I kiss his lips again as I undo his pants, slowly zipping them down and immediately feeling my hand attacked by his warm skin clothed with his boxers. I gulp, moving down and kissing his chin and down his throat. He sighs happily as I continue over his shirt, bending down as I move. I finally manage to pull down his jeans and I make my way down to his boxers. I take a deep breath and kiss the cloth right over the rise in the fabric. It twitches under my touch and I take another shuddery breath. I grasp up around the waistband of his underwear, slowly tearing them down and watching his skin as it's revealed to me. I watch with wide eyes as I take in all of his girth, looking up at him and wincing nervously.

"Don't be afraid, he doesn't bite," he winks. I look back down in front of me to the throbbing skin and reach up, grabbing around the base and gulping down my nerves. I lean forward, diving my head slightly under him and sticking out my tongue, slowly dragging it up along his skin. He watches me appreciatively, letting out a quiet moan under his breath. I do it again, this time pulling my tongue up and over the head of his cock, tasting him already starting to leak onto my tongue. I cringe slightly at the taste before taking a deep breath and placing my lips around the head, slowly working my way down to meet my fist at the base. I barely make it before my gag reflex kicks in and I have to back off a bit. I suckle a bit on the skin, gently and firmly pumping on his base. I can feel his fingers curling into my hair and decide that I'm doing well enough to try more things. I start bobbing my head up as far as I can back to the head before diving back down around him. One of his hands creeps down and grabs the back of my neck, pushing me slightly to my own pace and squeezing me encouragingly.

"Like that," he murmurs, sounding completely lost in his own world. "Aw fuck," he sighs.

For someone with no practice, from the sounds he's making, I guess I'm doing pretty goddamn good.

Not exactly my proudest attribute to be a natural born cocksucker, but I'll take it in stride. For the moment, I suppose it's a good thing.

He suddenly twists his fingers into my curls again and I yelp as he thrusts his cock down into my throat. My eyes automatically begin watering and my throat convulses around his throbbing dick. He keeps me still a second or two more before quickly pulling me back off of him. I grab at my throat, gasping for air and choking lightly on my spit as I look up at him angrily.

"The fuck!" I rasp out. "Dude!"

"What?" He looks down at me innocently. "I wanted more."

"Warning would have been lovely!" I cough, reaching up and punching his stomach. He grabs my arm afterwards and stares at me with his sad puppy-dog pout.

"I'm sorry," he says, leaning down and kissing me gently. "Forgive me?"

"I don't know," I lie, looking away from him stubbornly. He pauses before chuckling and holding my arm tenderly. He kisses my wrist, working his lips up my forearm and biceps. He pecks my shoulder and holds for a moment before biting lovingly on my neck.

"I'm sorry," he repeats. I can't help but smile, but still keep my head away from him so he can't see. "I just...," he kisses me, "Want you so much," he pecks my cheek. "I couldn't help myself," he grasps my chin and turns my head around. "Please?" he asks, grinning sheepishly. I smirk back at him, kissing his lips softly. He pulls back and holds my chin still, staring at me with his deep blue eyes. "Your turn," he states huskily. He grabs me and pushes me down on top of my bed and I watch him as he kisses his way down my abs again, undoing my jeans and managing to tear them and my boxers off with a skill I couldn't imagine anyone having.

Of course if anyone were to have this talent, it would of course have to be Kenny McCormick.

He pecks down my navel, diverting himself down my left thigh. He turns my leg slightly, kissing the inside dangerously close to where I want him to be right now. I whine against my will and he greets it with an amused chuckle.

"Happy birthday to youu," he sings, kissing my thigh again. "Happy birthday to youu," he pecks up closer towards my throbbing cock and it takes every ounce of willpower I have to not buck my hips up into his face. "Happy birthday dear Kyleeeee," he drags out the 'E', teasingly dragging his tongue up the length of my cock. I shudder and my eyes roll back at the contact. He pulls off and waits until I look up at him again before he smirks. "Happy birthday to you," he finishes before diving his head down around my skin. I gasp and my body quakes as I feel him taking me into the back of his throat. I stare at my ceiling my mouth agape, sounds trying to escape but caught in my shock and pleasure.

"F-fuck, Kenny...," I breathe out finally, my head falling back onto my sheets. I tilt my head back down and run my tongue over my lips, his mouth suctioning onto my skin like his life depends on it. My arms rest beside my head, my fingers clenching into my sheets and dragging them towards me now and again with each heavy breath I take. My head rolls around slightly atop my bed as I feel him rubbing the insides of my thighs. I feel his nose nestling in towards my stomach, his tongue tracing my skin with almost frightening precision. I haven't been in this situation before. Bebe tried to coax me into it once but I just didn't feel right being shoved into a janitor closet with her randomly going for my pants.

But goddamn. If Kenny shoves me into a closet anytime soon, I don't think that I'd be able to tell him no.

I look down, finding his blonde hair bobbing up and down between my legs. He shoots his eyes up at mine and I can feel him smiling around my cock. He keeps his eyes set in mine, the lust burning through their deep blue color is almost too much for me to handle. This fucker knows what he's doing. Just where to touch, which places set me off. His fingers brush over my legs softly and I feel my thighs twitching at his touch. I pull my sheets into a death grip, dragging them down towards either side of my head. My back arches slightly off the mattress and I moan loudly, squirming erratically.

"Kenny...Ken, fuck!" I pant. My vision clouds over in a blinding flash of white spots and I arch up violently. I feel his hand slam over my mouth as I start screaming his name again. My mind takes a few moments to catch up to the rest of me, feeling my limbs shaking and a layer of sweat over my forehead. I open my eyes again, looking and finding his hand still secure over my lips as he slides up off of my cock. He looks at me with an amused smirk, licking his lips and grinning wider.

"You know that thing I told you about screaming my name earlier?" he asks. I blink and nod slowly. "Well you may want to be careful of that, too." He jerks his head towards my door. "That things unlocked and I'm not getting up to reprimand the problem," he chuckles. He leans back over me, his nose touching mine as he stares me down. "Kay?" he whispers, pulling his hand down off of my mouth and taking my bottom lip into his teeth. We watch each other for a few moments before his hands slide down under my back and lift me up against him, our lips connecting and our tongues warring it out once again. He gently squeezes my waist in his palms. My hands work their way up his sweatshirt, grabbing his shoulders and clinging onto him almost desperately.

A part of me is ashamed of this; the other part is horny and doesn't give a damn.

He pulls back for a breath and I move my head down, pushing my face into his clothed chest and nuzzling against him. He kisses my hair, moving down and nipping at my ear and neck. I tilt my head to the side a bit for him and he clutches my hips, rubbing my pelvic bone in small circles with his thumbs. He chuckles lowly, his grating voice once again setting every nerve on fire.

"And you didn't want this," he laughs. "I think you're addicted already."

"Sh-shut up," I stutter, looking away with a blush.

He sniggers, kissing my cheek and slowly moving his hand behind me, pulling me against him firmly. He teases my entrance lightly with his index finger before biting my neck and shoving into me. I flinch violently and fall into him a bit biting my lip as he tests pushing his finger in and out of me. I whine as he gently slides in a second finger, gritting my teeth and looking up at him in a wince. He licks his teeth, looking back behind me with hungry eyes. He spreads his fingers apart inside me and I muffle a shout into his shirt.

"Shh," he coos, rubbing my hip with his free hand. "It'll hurt less this way."

"It fucking hurts now!" I shout into his chest. He laughs and kisses my head.

"It's gonna be fiiiine," he states.

"Easy for you to say," I mutter, jolting as he continues to scissor me. I feel his calloused fingers scraping inside of me and wince. It's not as bad as I'm making it out to be, but damn this just feels beyond weird.

He pulls his fingers out finally and chuckles, kissing my forehead. He brings his finger up and twists it in a circular motion a few times. "Turn around," he states.

And off go my nerves once again.

My stomach starts flitting between want and a desire to just stop and run out the door. I keep watching his finger twisting before he sighs, kissing my neck again before grabbing my waist and jerking me over to the side. I yelp as he pushes down on the top of my back, forcing my head down onto the sheets. My fingers grip at the cloth nervously as I watch behind me. He stares at me before smirking and leaning back. I gaze at him, swallowing down a mouthful of air as he reaches back past my guitar and into my stand beside it. He grabs a bottle of hand lotion and shakes it for my view and I cringe a bit.

"Oh, Kyle, calm down," he states. He pats my ass a bit, flipping open the cap of the lotion and grinning wider. He squirts a bit onto his fingers and shoves into me again. I lurch and fall face-first onto my bed and scream into the mattress.

"COLD!"

"Don't worry, I'll warm you up soon," he purrs. His voice is filled with that promising tone again and I shiver, raising my head from the sheets to see him pulling out his fingers again. He slathers a decent amount into his hand and licks his lips again, bending over me as he smears it over his pulsing skin. I take a shuddery breath, my eyes meeting his nervously and he smiles. "It'll _sting_," he emphasizes. "Nothing to go into a seizure over."

I can't help but smirk. "That small, huh?"

He pouts before grabbing onto my ass and chuckling. "That's for you to judge," he murmurs into my ear before slowly pushing his hips against me. His invasion starts ripping through me and I choke for breath, clawing at my sheets almost frantically. True to his word, my body starts blazing in heat, his skin hot and searing as it pushes into me.

"Ow, ow, OW!" I shout.

He stops and I can feel his stare on my face. I creak open my eyes and find him as my suspicions are proven correct.

"Dude," he blinks, "I prepped you."

"Have you ever had this happening to you?" I hiss through my teeth, feeling his hips twitching to keep moving.

"Not yet?" he shrugs.

"Then shut up!" I shout. "Fuck!" I take a hasty breath, putting my face on the sheets and trying to calm down. My shoulders heave a few times before he starts slowly inching further into me. I tense and he sighs.

"Kyle, loosen up. It'll hurt worse if you act like I'm stabbing you."

"I think you are!" I shake. I take another breath, forcing myself to relax more. Fucking sex fiend was right. It's not as bad when I calm down.

"Can I move now?" he asks.

"Can I stop you?"

"Not really," he answers honestly, pushing himself fully into me. I groan, shaking my head against the cool sheets. He stays still again before I feel him leaning over my back past me. I feel something pushing against my shoulder and look over, finding him shoving a pillow against me. "Put your head on this," he directs.

"Why?" I blink.

"Trust me and do it," he says evenly. I grab the pillow in defeat, not really willing to argue so much with his cock currently balls-deep in my ass. I hold the pillow in my arms and place my head on it before I feel him shifting back up. I glance over my shoulder, watching him as he straightens himself before he grabs either of my hips in a firm grasp, gently pulling himself back before pressing back inside of me. My spine locks slightly in my position, his whole theory of 'relaxing' not suiting the situation well.

He starts steadily thrusting into me, my head pulsing with a rush of passion and pain all at once. I moan quietly, sinking my head into the pillow as he presses me against it.

"Damn, Kyle," he mutters, his fingers squeezing my skin. His nails dig into my flesh and my focus falls onto them for a moment, they way that they scrape relentlessly against me, pulling me closer into him with each propulsion.

"Ken...Ken...a-ahh..." I whine, looking back at him once again as he hits into me more steadily. He leans over me again, kissing my back before quickly setting himself back up and grunting, driving into me faster.

My body is lost in a whirlwind of feeling, my pain dying down finally and giving way to hunger, to utter delectation as he thrusts into me. My discomfort is soon completely overridden with driven hormones, my head exploding with the need for more, the longing to beg.

My pride will not let that happen very smoothly.

I let out somewhat of a strangled plea, my hand mindlessly beating on the bed in an erratic tempo. Kenny doesn't slow down, instead bending over me once again and pushing against me like he's a goddamn human jackhammer.

"What was that, Kyle?" he murmurs.

I look back at him again, wincing at his smug appearance. I am not resorting myself to begging.

I grunt, pushing my hips back against his rhythm and I smirk as he gasps in surprise before he pauses and looks down at me with a wild gleam to his eyes.

A part of me is a little scared.

He pushes his arms down over top of my shoulders and locks me in place and I blink before he starts thrusting into me like a fucking madman. I squeal a little too high pitched for my own good and it just urges him on. I listen to him panting as he hovers overtop of me, feeling him delving into me like no fucking tomorrow.

I dig my head back down into my pillow, stifling my screams into the fabric and continuing to press back against him all I can.

He leans down closer over top of me, his covered chest pressing against my back. He laughs lowly, "Pillowbiter," he growls.

I yell out words even I can't make out, bringing a hand back and mindlessly swatting at him. He hums amusedly, grabbing my arm and pushing it back against the bed. I shift around a bit, trying to free myself before losing myself in my screaming again and sinking back down slightly.

He changes his angle just slightly and I almost jump up against him with a scream of pleasure against my pillow.

"Like that?" he stops and murmurs. "Want it again?"

Fuck pride.

I nod briskly and he hits into me again, slamming into that same spot and making every inch of my body screech in euphoria.

"Kennyyyyy," I moan, pressing my ass back against him, trying to get him to continue.

"Beg," he orders.

I look back at him with a glare. "It's my fucking birthday," I spit. "Just fucking do it already!"

He leans his face against my shoulder blade, laughing hysterically before biting me and resuming his rhythm. I moan happily and clutch onto my pillow like it's the only thing holding me down from floating onto cloud fucking nine.

"Shit," he mutters. "Aw shit," he leans against me, sweat dripping from his face down otno my back as he relentlessly pounds into me. My cock is unbearably hard, aching for release again. I moan again and he bites onto my skin viciously, prompting another muffled scream to escape from my lips.

He suddenly pushes me down as far as he can and I feel him exploding inside me in hot droves. I gasp out, twitching slightly as he continues pushing into me, riding out his orgasm until the heat finally stops escaping into me.

He pants a bit, his skin softening inside me slightly. I feel my dick aching underneath the both of us and squirm around under him, muttering incoherently. He slides out of me and I feel his cum following him and wince.

This is a lot weirder feeling than I thought it would be.

He suddenly grabs under me and flips me over underneath him, grinning at me perversely.

"Problem?" he asks.

"Ken...," I whine as he grabs my wrists and holds them down over my head.

"Beeeggggg," he urges.

I am so tempted to just thrust my knee up and make sure this fucker doesn't walk for a week.

"And don't play the birthday card again," he states. "You can only play that so many times before it just gets repeta-"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP AND TOUCH ME," I scream. My face drops as my voice echoes around my room.

He stares at me in shock before glancing at the door for a brief moment. He looks back at me and smiles wider. "Since you asked so nicely," he winks, finally grabbing ahold of my aching dick and pumping on my skin fiercely. I throw my head back and let out a long moan, quickly bringing my hand up and biting down on the heel of my palm.

Kenny leans down overtop my face and kisses my fingers. "Like this?" he purrs. Fucking teasing son of a bitch!

"Move your hand," he growls. I shakily do so, quickly finding my own skin replaced with Kenny's lips. I reach up with my now-freed hand and grab his collar, bringing him down closer as I feel my adrenaline hitting that wonderful high again.

"Come on," he whispers against me. "Come for me, birthday boy," he smirks. I shake uncontrollably before his lips slam straight down on top of mine again, swallowing my screaming of his name and various slurs that my mind won't take the time to decipher.

I feel my stomach coated in warm streams between the two of us, my heart thudding in my chest following the pounding in my head. I finally start descending from my high, creaking my eyes open to find those wide cerulean eyes gazing back at me.

He lets out a little 'hm', lathargically pulling back from my lips and licking his own. We stare down at each other, our chests rising and falling into each other's with each breath.

If this is just going to be followed by an awkward silence between the two of us, I'm just going to off myself right now.

He smirks, kissing my forehead before sitting up off of me and to my side. I sigh, shakily putting my arms to either of my sides and pushing myself up. I cringe lightly at the intense burning I feel throughout my back, looking back up to see Kenny's face suddenly deprived of his maniac pride-ridden gaze to one of concern.

"You okay?" he asks.

"Yeah," I nod, rubbing my hip slightly. I look down and find finger marks along my skin, looking back up at the blonde unamused.

"Oops?" he grins crookedly and shrugs.

I just sigh again, brushing my hair out of my eyes.

"So," he starts.

"So?" I look at him a bit nervously. I'm a little afraid of the aftermath of this.

He grins. "Same time next year?"

I smile a bit at him before it drops off again and I clear my throat awkwardly. So much for not being one of Kenny McCormick's stupid slut dates...

A moment of tense silence passes between us before he smiles and kisses my cheek again. "Or ya know, same time tomorrow?"

I smile for real this time, hitting his arm playfully. "Fine, but you actually have to buy me dinner first this time."

He chuckles, "If you're cool with Pop-Tarts then deal," he punches me back. We grin at each other a while longer before he rips off his coated sweatshirt, throwing it at me as he grabs his jeans and pulls them back on. "Clean up before your mom gets up here and kills me," he nods. I nod back, using his sleeve and wiping off the coating of cum overtop my skin.

"Wash that will ya?" he asks.

"What am I, your wife?" I ask in a deadpan tone.

"No. Maybe...Girlfriend?" he shrugs with a small smile.

I blink before cocking my head at him slightly. "Girlfriend or one-night stand never to be spoken of again?"

"Nah," he shakes his head. "I wouldn't do that to ya. It'd be too awkward since we're always together. 'Sides, Stan would kick my ass if I did that."

I chuckle in agreement. "Yeah, he probably would."

"So," he watches me as I finally pull my jeans back on, tossing his coated sweatshirt on the floor. I button them back up and watch him back for a few moments. "Was that a yes or no?" he shifts uncomfortably.

I smirk. I have Kenny McCormick squirming in front of me. Oh how the tables have turned.

"Well...," I lean back, looking at my ceiling as though I'm thinking, though I'm pretty much already dead-set on my answer. I look back and find him staring at me intently and smile softly. "I don't see why not. I could use something different in my life I guess," I shrug.

He grins again, leaning forward and kissing me briskly. "I should probably go before your mom comes up here and...uh..."

"Kills you?" I finish.

"Yeah," he nods.

"Stay for dinner," I say. "It's not like you being here is really that shocking. Stan breaks in through my window all the time."

"For...what?" he raises his brow in amusement.

I grab my pillow and slam it against him, "Not that, you perv!" He bursts out laughing and I roll my eyes, grabbing my shirt from beside me and pulling it back on. My fingers brush over the sticky residue left over and I feel a slight blush creeping through my cheeks. I look up to find him watching me and he smiles softly.

"No regrets?"

"Not yet anyway," I smirk. "May get some later down the road if I'm dating a pervert like you."

He pokes my head and laughs, "We'll see about that. I may just have you turned into a little pervert by the time I'm done with you, Jew-Boy."

"I'd like to see you try."

"As I shall," he winks.

"_Kyle, are you ready to eat yet?_" I hear Ike shouting from down the stairs.

I look at Kenny and he grins. "I'm always ready to eat."

"Of course," I chuckle. We jump up from my bed, my legs buckling slightly in soreness. He catches me under my arms and I look up to see him staring at me smugly.

"Small, huh?"

"Shut up, Sex-fiend," I bat him away before leading the way out my door. We come to the top of my steps, finding my mother staring at the two of us.

"Well hello, Kenneth," she greets him. "I didn't know you were coming."

"Neither did Kyle," he smirks. I kick him subtly and look back at my mom.

"What do you want for dinner, Kyle?" she asks.

I shrug. "Can we just go out for pizza?"

"All right then," she smiles at me and nods. "Get ready then, Boys. We'll head out soon."

"Thanks, Ma," I nod at her before she turns and starts walking away. I look over and see Ike staring at the two of us suspiciously.

"What, Shrimp?" Kenny asks.

He comes up the steps, noticeably keeping his distance from the two of us. He leans towards me and shakes his head. "Thin walls, Man. Thin. Walls."

My face pales and my stomach drops a bit. Shit.

"I told them you were dancing with your guitar, Fag," he drawls out at me. "Next time I'll let them walk in on the two of you."

Kenny and I look at each other briefly before Ike pivots and heads back down the steps.

"...Shit," I mutter, rubbing my forehead.

"Hey look at the bright side," Kenny grins. "That's one less person we have to break it to. Now let's go eat," he swats my ass playfully and bounds down my steps after my brother.

I watch after him before grinning, slowly making my way down to join them.

This is one routine I could _definitely_ get used to.

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: I wrote this publicly on Piratepad. Omg. It was soooo awkward._**

**_But I had sooo much fun talking to people while doing it ;w;_**

**_SOME OF YOU WRITE WITH ME SOMETIME DAMMIT. We have little discussions and stuff and...it's so wonderful. So much happy ;w;_**

**_Anyway! Thanks for R&Ring!  
><em>**


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